


Driving Miss Dean

by emmyloo03



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas drives the Impala, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Human Castiel, Impala Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:52:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1866981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmyloo03/pseuds/emmyloo03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean decides to give Castiel a driving lesson in the Impala and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Driving Miss Dean

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the lovely Serenhawk

“Dean, I already know how to drive. I have a car, as you well know, seeing as how you have your fine ass perched on it.” Cas and Dean were standing between their respective cars in the bunker garage, mirroring one another with arms crossed and matching scowls. Sam stood off to one side watching the exchange with poorly contained glee on his face. Dean knew he was just waiting for ammo. So much for brotherly love and loyalty!

“Yeah Cas, but that’s not Baby. Baby has quirks like you wouldn't believe,” Dean answered, seemingly oblivious to the ridiculousness of the situation. Ever since Cas had pulled up in that gold disgrace of a car, Dean refused to acknowledge that the other man had any working knowledge of motor vehicles. How the guy had managed to make it to the bunker all those months ago was beyond him. In fact, he hadn't made it after all, Dean recalled. “You ran out of gas before. Who does that??” he shot across the garage floor. Why the pimpmobile, as Dean referred to it, was even in the bunker garage was beyond him; something about Sam worried about someone spotting the giant gold eyesore parked outside a seemingly abandoned power station.

Cas threw his hands up in the air and did a quick little turn. Dean didn't notice how cute his boyfriend was, dammit. This was Baby they were talking about, after all. “Look man, this was your idea. There are rules associated with driving Baby, just ask Sam. She is a finely tuned machine, but she has her quirks and they can be a bitch to handle.”

Sam, who had been watching the whole exchange avidly, shot Dean a trademark bitchface. “Don’t listen to him Cas, I've driven with you and you're a fine driver. Dean’s just being his normal control-freak self.”

“Stay out of this Sammy. I’ve seen what you do with cars as soon as my back is turned. Douching it up with an iPod, driving that hulking monstrosity Cas crushed that one time. Nice job by the way babe, don’t know if I ever told you how proud I was.” Dean shot a grin at Cas briefly before remembering he was supposed to be scowling.

“Fine Dean. Tell me these rules of yours.” Cas appeared contrite and earnest. Dean side-eyed him for a moment before launching into an impassioned speech about dogs and the leather seats and something about the alignment being a bitch and pulling to the left when you least expect it and then hopped off of Cas’ car and gestured to the impala. “You know, the best way to learn is by doing, so lets take her out for a spin.” He glanced over at his brother, “You comin’ Sammy? Plenty of room in the backseat for your sasquatch-ness.”

Sam rolled his eyes and said, “Nah, I got plenty to keep me occupied while you two play Driver’s Ed. Don’t let him give you too much crap Cas.” He winked at Cas then turned and headed back into the bunker proper. Dean glared after him for a second, muttering about giant nerds that need to keep their mouths shut, before turning back to eye Cas, who was making his way around the front of the impala to the driver’s side.

“And just where do you think you're going mister?!”

“Dean, I can't very well drive from the passenger side, now can I. You’re really making this a bigger deal than it has to be. It’s only a car.” 

Dean spluttered for a moment, jaw working soundlessly, before managing a very high, “JUST A CAR.” He cleared his throat and tried again, “Baby is not just a car!” He nodded to himself once; that was much better, a very manly growl was more appropriate. He looked up to see Cas smiling with that half grin of his, which might as well have been a belly laugh on the guy. 

“Oh man, you’re hilarious. Just get in the car.” Dean climbed into the backseat, deciding that a little distance between him and Chuckles was in order, not to mention distance from the windshield. Cas slid in behind the wheel and took a moment to adjust the mirrors and fasten his lap belt. 

Dean slouched in the seat, determined to remain nonchalant about the whole thing from now on. “Anytime today Cas…” Cas met his eyes in the rearview mirror and chuckled. 

“Why Dean, this reminds me of a film Sam and I watched, called ‘Driving Miss Daisy’.” 

Dean glowered at him, and growled out, “By all means, keep making jokes man, but you’ll be makin’ ‘em from the ground instead of the driver’s seat in a second.” Cas raised his hands in surrender a moment before starting the car. The impala’s engine roared to life and Dean took a moment to admire her purr and listen for any signs of trouble. Satisfied his baby was in top shape, Dean said, “Alright Cas, ease her on out.”

Cas maneuvered the car slowly past the enormous double doors and up the curving ramp to the entrance to the driveway which was hidden from prying eyes by shrubs and trees. As he reached the road proper, he stopped and looked both ways for traffic. The road that ran adjacent to the bunker was seldom used but it was better to be safe than sorry. Dean approved of his caution, but remained silent, waiting to see what direction Cas would take. One way led into town while the other meandered into back roads and farmland dotted by the occasional copse of trees.

Suddenly Cas floored the gas pedal and whipped the steering wheel as he fishtailed onto the road. He corrected quickly and roared down the stretch of deserted tarmac. The impala’s engine screamed as he whipped her around the few corners they encountered, before slamming on the brakes to take a left. The rear end slid out and for a moment Dean’s heart seized, but Cas straightened her out almost nonchalantly and they were roaring down the highway again. The whole time Dean clutched the seat in front of him to keep from sliding across the rear bench and bellowed. He cursed Cas and threatened him and cajoled him into stopping, even contemplated grabbing at him but at these high speeds that was out of the question. So he hung on for dear life and tried to enjoy the ride, which was actually quite thrilling once he relaxed a bit. Cas handled the old car like a dream, sliding around corners and powering down the straightaways. Dean marveled at the impala’s handling; the old girl had power, but he would be the first to say she handled like a manatee under the best conditions. 

Cas abruptly angled off the road into a field and whipped few donuts, which elicited some boyish whoops and whistles from Dean. He slid to a stop in a corner of the field, shielded from the road by some trees. Cas shut the car off, unbuckled his lap belt, and turned to regard Dean over the seat back. For a moment the only sounds were the ticking of the engine and Dean’s breathing. Cas watched him for a moment, apprehensive, and yet his breathing was labored as well, as if he had been running along side the car during their romp through the countryside. 

Dean stared through the windscreen blankly and then his eyes tracked over to meet Cas’. They stared for a second and then Dean’s hands were fisted in Cas’ jacket and he was pulling him in. Their mouths met in a tangle, all teeth and tongue and panting as Dean dragged him over the seat into the back. Cas scrambled over the seat and landed half on top of Dean, half in the footwell. He struggled a moment to get purchase and slotted a leg between Dean’s, rubbing their thickening erections together through layers of denim. Dean’s hands roved up Cas’s chest to wrap around his shoulders and thread his blunt fingers through the other man’s hair. Cas sought to get his hands between them, fumbling with his belt blindly. The backs of his hands grazed Dean’s erection through his jeans and Dean broke the kiss with a low moan. He began rocking his hips up into Cas’, desperate to increase the pressure between their groins. Cas leaned forward and mouthed at the bolt of Dean’s exposed jaw, eliciting another moan from the other man. 

“Jesus Cas, fuck!” 

Dean panted as he slid his arms down to grasp handfuls of Cas’s ass and ground them together. 

“Wait Dean, let me just,” Cas groaned brokenly, his voice deeper than usual. He fumbled a moment more between them before Dean felt his hand down his pants and then those hands were on him, stroking with just the right amount of pressure. Dean’s head fell back and his moan was low and long. “Yeah babe, that is so good.” 

Cas growled in response and captured Dean’s mouth briefly before drawing back, pulling Dean’s lower lip lightly between his teeth. Dean chased his mouth, desperate to maintain the contact, but dropped back as Cas straightened. He contented himself by bringing his hands around to grasp Cas’s hips as he freed himself from his jeans. Cas grasped both cocks in his hand and began jacking them together in earnest. Dean’s fingers dug into Cas’ slim hips and babbled, “Fuck Cas, shit that’s good. How’d you learn to drive like that? Fuck babe that was so hot. Seriously I love it when you are all badass out of nowhere. Shitshitshit that’s so good” For a moment the only sounds were their labored breaths, the wet sound of their cocks sliding together in Cas’s hands, and the Impala’s springs singing with the rocking of the car.

Dean seized as he came with a low cry, come spurting over his belly and chest, staining his shirt. Cas jacked them through it, grunting softly as he chased his own pleasure. A few pulls more and he shuddered through his own release, mingling his spend with Dean’s, before releasing their oversensitized flesh. Dean rubbed circles over Cas’s hips as he came down from his orgasm, marveling over the miracle of the man before him. Cas looked down at Dean’s shirt and grimaced. “Well shit,” he said, “that was not my intention.”

Dean laughed a moment, his whole body shaking hard enough to dislodge Cas and nearly send the man sliding into the footwell. Dean slid back on the seat, tucking himself back into his pants and stripping off the soiled shirt. He balled it up and tossed it in the footwell. As long as he remembered to get it later, Sam would be none the wiser. Though neither man was a stranger to finding a crusty sock or t-shirt while sorting the laundry. Too many years on the road sharing too many motel rooms. 

Dean watched as Cas straightened his own clothes. The man didn't have a drop on him. His hair stuck out in all directions though. Dean reached over and tried to flatten it a little. Cas ducked his head and swatted at Dean’s hand affectionately. 

“Well that was a fun ride, but I’m driving back, ok?”


End file.
